Stalked
by Bokeh
Summary: Following the Battle of Fornost, Glorfindel, Erestor and Lindir are separated from their company and are forced to take refuge at an inn in the Kingdom of Arthedain during a rainstorm. Their situation goes from bad to worse when the innkeeper's three daughters fall in love with them and the Elven Lords find they have no way out when the daughters get...clingy.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own LOTR or the Elves in this story, they all belong to Mr. Tolkien.

This story is pure silliness involving three of my favorite Elves that I came up with on a whim. I will try to update as much as I can, but please understand I am a poor college student with more projects than free time. Also, reviews are much appreciated! : )

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T.A. 1975

For many days, rain had fallen over the small town of Aglarin in the kingdom of Arthedain. Wayward travelers and soldiers returning home following the Battle of Fornost had to take refuge in the town's inn as the lowlands flooded, making it near impossible to journey onward.

It was not a horrid discomfort though, the inn itself was spacious, with three stories and plenty of fireplaces to ward off the coming winter chill. The place itself was clean; the beds were comfortable and smelled slightly of lavender. There was never a time when the place did not smell of roasting meat, freshly baked bread or apple pastries; in a sense, it had every comfort one could ask for.

It was on a particularly cold evening where the rain was sometimes flaked with snow that three tall, cloaked travelers with hoods obscuring their faces and drenched from the downpour wandered into the inn. The main fireplace was alight and those gathered in the dining area were clanking their mugs and drumming their hands and feet, keeping time with the lively music played by the innkeeper's three daughters.

It was quite crowded, and many of the men inside were easily recognizable as former soldiers as they wore brigandines, war tunics and vambraces emblazoned with Númenorean crests. The three that just came through the door arrived like many of the others had with swords on their waists, saddlebags over their shoulders and light reflecting off plates of armor. However, if one were to have taken a closer look they would have seen that the armor the three wore were not the solid steel plates favored by men, but rather of interlocking lames with faint patterns of leaves and stars etched into them.

The foremost figure —the smallest of the three— stepped forward as the portly innkeeper did and inquired about the availability of a room in a voice that was altogether otherworldly. "I've got one left that will suit you just fine," the innkeeper replied and went to fetch the appropriate room key from behind the counter that also served as the inn's bar. "Would you like some food and hot water sent up to you?"

"Yes!" the tallest figure in a dark green-blue traveling cloak answered enthusiastically.

The innkeeper smiled kindly and motioned for one of his three daughters. Obviously knowing what her father wanted, she quickly disappeared into the kitchens. The innkeeper then led them to a wide staircase across the length of the room from the bar and to the second floor.

"Right here you are sirs," he said as he unlocked the door, which was the third one down the narrow corridor and opened it for them. "I do hope it is to your liking."

The tallest went in first, closely followed one that had spoken to him earlier. The third, in a heavy cloak of blue-black, hung back for several moments before he too went into the room, only to linger close by the door.

The room itself was rather quaint with scrubbed wooden floors, walls and ceiling. There were homemade quilts of different patterns and colors on the four narrow beds and a small watercolor of a flowering field hung over the tiny, unlit fireplace. A small desk sat before the only window to the room, which the tallest figure now looked out.

"The room is...sufficient," the one in the blue-black answered the innkeeper tartly.

"More than sufficient," the smallest said quickly after dropping the saddlebags he carried onto the floor by one of the beds. "We shall be most comfortable here."

The innkeeper bobbed his head in gratitude. "If you all need anything there's a bell pull by the fireplace there, or just ask one of my daughters or me."

He shut the door quietly, leaving the three in the room. Once they were certain the innkeeper was out of earshot, the smallest figure hissed in the elven tongue.

"The room is sufficient?" he questioned his darkly robed companion. "Honestly Erestor, it was you whom was complaining about being out in the rain; this ought to be more than '_sufficient_' even for you."

"Being stuck out in the freezing rain was the least of my complaints if you can recall correctly Lindir." Erestor threw back his damp hood revealing a pale face with broad cheekbones and grey eyes that were nearly black.

"I remember you yelling about a lot of things really," the tallest had now pulled off his cloak and laid it on the chair tucked beneath the desk with his bag, revealing his sodden, golden glory. "It was quite hard to make out just bothered you really. Yet we are now out of the rain, able to rest comfortably and enjoy a nice meal, honestly what is left to complain about?"

Erestor harrumphed, "If you think this will make up for everything that has happened you are sorely mistaken."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Glorfindel dismissed with a wave of his gloved hand.

"Wasn't that bad? _Wasn't_ _that bad_!" Erestor nearly shouted, taking several quick strides towards the golden elf with his hand tightly gripping the sword hilt at his side. "It was not bad that we were separated from our army and nearly drowned in the lowlands? I suppose it was a good thing when we went over forty miles in the wrong direction because you saw fit to take directions from _a squirrel_."

Glorfindel had put his hands up in a defensive manner, hoping to ward off the angry advisor as he advanced towards him with murder in his eyes. "I admit I might have misunderstood what he said, my squirrel dialect is a little rusty."

This only propelled Erestor into another rant about the idiocy of Vanya elves and squirrels, one that was quite similar to those Lindir had listened to since becoming separated from the rest of the Imladris army. Unlike those tongue-lashings the advisor dealt the Balrog Slayer in Imladris, there was no window to shut or music to play which could drown the shouts. Luckily, Lindir had quickly learned to turn a deaf ear, and turned his attention away from the other two occupants.

Despite Erestor's voice gaining pitch, Lindir hummed a tune and went about pulling necessities from his saddlebag. He placed a fine comb on the small table beside two of the beds and laid out a set of spare clothes. Lindir then pulled off his cloak, took off his armor and changed into the dry clothes.

Erestor had yet to cease, and there were a few times Glorfindel tried to stammer out a response. For a moment, Lindir found it difficult to believe the elf that was bending backwards over the desk in a feeble attempt to distance himself from Erestor was the same elf that had taken on a Balrog. Moreover, this same elf had chased the dreaded Witch King of Angmar out of Arthedain only days earlier.

Ilúvatar help them if Erestor ever decided to join the thrall left by Sauron.

A feint knock at the door finally silenced Erestor, and the advisor put on a look that told the other two, in no uncertain terms, _'I'm not answering it'_. Glorfindel —who appeared positively relieved by this distraction— took the opportunity to slip around the dark elf and throw open the door.

It was difficult for any of them to judge the age of humans, for they aged far more rapidly than they did, but the girl at the door appeared to have just now reached her majority. Her face was clean and unblemished, and stray locks of chestnut colored hair peeked from beneath a ruffled cap. She first appeared timid, for she surely heard all the shouting, but now her face held a look of amazement as she gazed upon the elves in the room.

The one whom had opened the door held her attention the longest. Despite his hair being damp, the long strands appeared to have been spun from gold. Even in her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined a face more handsome, nor could she tear her eyes away from his, which were colored an unearthly blue. The other two had hair that seemed darker than black with grey eyes and pale faces. Though they were both beautiful beyond reasoning, they did not match the splendor of their companion in her mind.

"Ah!" The golden elf reached forward, taking the pitcher of steaming water and clean towels from the girl who appeared to have forgotten the reason she was there. "Many thanks to you, lady."

Even his voice was majestic! He spoke to her in words she understood, but his accent was strange. It did not matter though; it was music to her ears. The girl felt her cheeks turn red as she fought to find her own voice.

"You're welcome," she barely managed to squeak. "Your food will be brought momentarily."

Glorfindel raised a brow as the girl remained in the doorway staring at him. When he was certain there was no one close by bringing their food he began to fidget. Though he, like his companions, had grown used to the stares their kind received from the race of Men, this one was slightly disturbing. This man-woman was looking at him as if she wished to devour him whole.

Not knowing what else to do, Glorfindel took a step back and slowly closed the door in the girl's face.

Lindir sniggered slightly as Glorfindel leaned against the door and let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. Erestor himself seemed to find the situation amusing as his scowling face relaxed into his usual austere countenance.

However, they stood still and did not speak for several long minutes; the girl —they sensed— remained outside their door. Finally, her footsteps drifted slowly down the corridor and they relaxed.

"Strange little thing," Lindir commented lowly as he bent to light the kindling gathered in the fireplace.

"They're all strange," Erestor harrumphed as he dropped his bags onto a bed and stripped off his cloak. "As soon as the way is clear I suggest we leave."

"As you wish, my Lord." Glorfindel gave a mocking bow, with one hand extended and the other over his chest while still holding the pitcher and towels. "I would not dare keep you in such 'sufficient' surroundings any longer than necessary."

"I'm serious Glorfindel!" Erestor retaliated by throwing his damp cloak at the Vanya. "I do not want to return to Imladris and face the fury of Lord Elrond's eyebrows as we try to explain to him why we are not with our company."

The other two blanched at the thought of returning home with Elrond standing on the front step with hands on hips and tapping his foot; all the while giving them the infamous glare that would have struck fear into the heart of Sauron himself. The three of them had important duties to perform which kept the Last Homely House functioning properly; Lord Elrond did not like taking all of those responsibilities onto himself, nor did he like distributing them to lesser elves. The longer they were away the more likely things were to go awry, which meant more work once they got back.

Erestor was already imagining the paperwork piling on his desk while Glorfindel dreaded the chaos Elladan and Elrohir would evoke as they tried to lead the Imladris guard in his stead. Lindir may have had it easier than his companions, but he was horrified of what kind of experience all their guests would have without him being there. No one back in Imladris had any taste; they'd probably be singing Dwarvish songs in the Hall of Fire and serving that awful Woodland wine at dinner for all he knew!

"It is agreed then, as soon as the path through the lowlands is passable, we leave this place at once." For once Lindir and Erestor were in complete agreement with Glorfindel. The sooner they got out of there the better.

Unfortunately, they would soon have far more reasons to flee Arthedain than just for the workload piling up in Imladris.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Sorry for any errors! Hope you all enjoy! : )

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Elves!

Maeve raced down the stairs, still scarcely believing what she had just seen. Elves had never stayed at the inn before, at least from what she could remember. She had often heard stories about them, but never had she imagined just how wondrous they were!

She dropped onto the bottom floor and made her way through the maze of soldiers and travelers, ignoring the calls for another song and more ale. As she pushed open the door to the kitchens, she nearly collided with her sister Ethne, who carried a tray laden with stew and fresh bread.

"Careful Maeve!" Ethne cried as she narrowly avoided dropping her tray.

"Where are you going with that?" Maeve questioned directly, oblivious to the thunderous glare her elder sister gave her.

"Upstairs," she answered smartly. "The three who just came in wanted food and—hey!"

Maeve snatched the tray from her sister's hands and maneuvered around her before setting it on a counter. This concoction simply would not do for her Elven Prince! For a prince he must be! Maeve thought to herself as she removed the stew and began rummaging around the kitchen speckled with the few staff they had.

She pulled a lamb's leg from the spit over the fire and set it on a serving plate before placing it on the tray. She then added some dried fruit, roasted vegetables, as well as some butter, and a variety of jams to go along with the bread. She bit her lip when she realized her assortment would not fit on a single serving tray; she would need some assistance.

"Fallon!" Maeve called to her youngest sister who just came through the door, her face turned away as she flirted with a soldier close behind her. "Fetch me a bottle of that blackberry wine, and quickly!"

"What has gotten into you Maeve?" Ethne demanded as her sister retrieved their finest cutlery and dining linens. "You had best be telling us!"

Fallon appeared beside Ethne with the requested bottle in her hands, a puzzled expression also on her face. All three of the sisters were quite pretty and slim, although they were not very tall. They each shared their late mother's hazel colored eyes, and while Ethne and Maeve had dark brown hair pinned atop their heads, Fallon's was an enviable golden-brown.

"If you help me carry this upstairs you shall see," Maeve challenged as she arranged the dishes on the trays more artfully, then smoothed the front of her linen pinafore. She then went to check her hair in one of the shiny brass pots hanging on the wall.

"It must be a Dúnedain Lord!" Fallon grabbed onto Ethne's sleeve out of excitement. "There are plenty around these parts! He must not be able to cross the lowlands!"

"Is it?!" Ethne's eyes widened as she imagined a tall, strong man, with jet-black hair, and handsome face. Her mind then conjured the same dream they all shared, in which said Lord would fall in love with her the instant he saw her, then proceed to whisk her far away from this tiny place and into a world of beauty and luxury.

"No, it is not a Dúnedain Lord who resides upstairs," Maeve turned back to them with an all-knowing grin on her face. "Follow me and you shall see something better than a Dúnedain!"

Both her sisters accepted the challenge readily; they straightened their hair and attire before they each took a tray loaded with food, wine, dishes, and cutlery, and followed their sister through the barroom and up the stairs.

Maeve stopped outside one of the oak doors, gave a giddy giggle, and knocked on the door.

* * *

Whilst they waited for their food, the elves of Imladris had changed, washed their faces, and went about making themselves comfortable or what-have-you. Lindir had sense to hang some rope, which he had in one of his bags, to easily dry their traveling cloaks and clothes. Of course, only Erestor found this sensible action frustrating.

On occasion Erestor collided with a wet tunic or cloak as he paced along the narrow aisle, which ran along the center of the room between the footboards, with a leather-bound tome in his hands. The advisor was now dressed in a high-necked tunic of midnight blue that fell to his mid-calf with a full-length velvet robe over his shoulders. Erestor had never considered abandoning formal clothing when he set out for war; he would never stoop so low. Plain cotton and linen garments were for commoners, filthy sea-elves, and certain Balrog Slayers.

Glorfindel himself finished untangling his famous golden tresses and collapsed onto the bed that was too short for him. The elf didn't seem to mind as he propped his feet on the footboard. Erestor snarled his nose at Glorfindel's rumpled tunic and leggings, —suggesting he wadded his clothes up and shoved them in his bag when he packed, instead of folding them like any decent person would—but his attention was quickly taken by the elf's armor and gear that lay discarded on the floor.

Erestor's upper lip curled. They had not even been there an hour and already Glorfindel was transforming the room into the sty he lived in back in Imladris.

"Will you please pick those up?" the advisor's tone sounded more condescending than pleading as he pointed to the array of weapons. "I refuse to extract an arrow from your hide, _again_."

Glorfindel grinned.

"No, I am not referring to the time you came limping into the library with a shaft protruding from your posterior because you secretly gave Elladan and Elrohir real bows and arrows on their tenth begetting day." Erestor snapped as the other elf's smile faded and began to put two-and-two together. "I am referring to the time you lied to Elrond, —after you swore you had that disaster of a guardhouse cleaned— tripped over a sword rack, and landed on that mass of weapons."

The golden elf immediately shot up from the bed, gathered his belongings and unceremoniously dropped them on the spare bed. The pain of an arrow slamming into his inner thigh, close to his crotch, was still fresh in his mind despite it happening several hundred years ago. The memory of Erestor's less than delicate removal had not diminished either. The dark elf didn't like his desk turned into an operating table and relayed that quite clearly when he pulled it out.

In hindsight, he would have been better off going to Elrond and admitting his lie; the elf lord would probably have considered his predicament punishment enough. At least then he would have had the benefit of numbing agents and pain suppressants. Not to mention he was less likely to have been sore months afterwards, and would not have had all that paperwork dumped on him as repayment.

Live and learn.

"That's better," said Erestor curtly before he turned his attention back to his book.

A rap at the door caught their attention, and both Glorfindel and Lindir's ears perked up.

"That must be our food," Lindir said as he abandoned his task of straightening their clothing on the makeshift drying line and followed Glorfindel to the door.

Unfortunately, hungry elves are not coordinated elves. In his enthusiasm Lindir bumped into Glorfindel, which made the gold elf to stub his toe on a bedpost and strike Lindir in the face with his elbow. This caused the other elf's head to jerk back and lose his footing. Lindir grabbed onto Glorfindel's tunic to keep himself from tumbling onto the floor, but the elf was in no position to help as he was only able to stand on one foot. As Glorfindel fell he instinctively grabbed at something that would keep him upright, but to no avail. There was nothing but wet tunics and cloaks around them.

Erestor rubbed his temple as both elves fell to the floor in a flurry of limbs and elvish curses, snapping the rope and bringing their collective clothing down with them. The advisor then cast a quick glance towards the ceiling. What? What had he done? Surely no sin was too great that one would be stuck with the likes of these two.

He contemplated allowing Glorfindel and Lindir to untangle themselves from the clothing and each other so he would not have to answer the door. But another knock followed by a concerned voice made him think better of it. Erestor took no small amount of satisfaction as he walked over the struggling elves, stepping on Lindir's stomach and making Glorfindel's thick head strike the floor again, to throw open the door.

Dear Elbereth they multiplied.

Erestor felt his eye twitch as three sets of eyes widened and stared at him unabashed. One of the infernal things even _squealed. _He recognized one of them as the girl who brought the water to them earlier, but the other two were unfamiliar. It did not matter though. Glorfindel may have poked fun at him by telling him he took as much time and consideration into his appearance as any she-elf, but he, Erestor, Chief Advisor to Lord Elrond of Imladris was not someone to gawk at.

"You should not stare at someone with your mouths hanging open like a pack of ravenous wargs," he snapped, though this did not cause the three young girls to stop staring. His eye twitched again before he added: "It's quite discourteous."

With that he slammed the door and had every intention of leaving it at that. Lindir though, was the first to free himself and struggled to his feet.

The girls were quite shocked when the door shut on them abruptly, but then they heard three voices raised in argument, but they could not understand the words. The door was swung open and a friendlier looking elf appeared before them.

"I do apologize for my friend's rudeness," Lindir said as he rubbed his still tender nose. Erestor huffed somewhere behind him. "You bring us a feast! Allow me to take that from you lady, it should be a crime to make lovely maidens carry so large a burden!" He took the heaviest tray, which Ethne carried, and gave a charming smile.

Glorfindel sniggered and Erestor rolled his eyes at their companion's flattering words. The elf was a master of hospitality, and it was quite amusing to see that he never let this slip, even when it came to three young girls. Whether this was out of habit, genuine kindness, or just plain fun, neither Glorfindel or Erestor knew. Whatever the case, Glorfindel decided that it would be quite amusing to poke fun at his flowery, frivolous verbiage. He certainly deserved it after their tumble.

The Vanya rose from the floor and glided with all the majesty the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower could muster, careful to avoid the mess of clothing in the floor. He gave an over exaggerated bow and spoke in the distinct, overly honeyed tone the other elf used.

"Indeed ladies, we should be the ones waiting on you, for such loveliness is seldom seen even amongst the Eldar" he cast a sideways glace at Lindir who seemed to have caught onto what he was doing given his critical look. "Words cannot describe our appreciation for your efforts, we only hope our humble thanks are enough."

"Dear Ilúvatar, you are an imbecile," Erestor muttered in Sindarin as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Indeed, you bring us a feast fit for a High King of Elves! We are forever indebted," Glorfindel gave another bow and swore he heard Lindir's teeth grinding behind his thin smile.

"Oh, it was no trouble at all!" Maeve flushed and giggled right along with her sisters.

"None whatsoever!" Ethne added in delight as she fluttered her lashes at the kind, dark elf.

"We'd rather like it if you chose to trouble us though!" Fallon winked.

Lindir and Glorfindel glanced at one another and mutually agreed the game was over. These girls were slightly more annoying than those they had come across before, and they found their stares...unsettling. Glorfindel easily took the other two trays and gave a less flamboyant bow as Lindir thanked them one last time —without further compliment or embellished prose— and shut the door.

They turned and breathed a sigh whilst Erestor still glowered at the door with a brow arched high on his forehead. The girls didn't remain outside long and dashed away noisily —sounding similar to a herd of stampeding oliphaunts in Erestor's opinion— whilst giggling and shrieking.

"Well, that was fun," Glorfindel said to no one in particular as went to the desk to set the trays down.

"You made a larger fool of yourself than of him," said Erestor dryly, but the golden haired elf could have cared less now that he was about to eat. Lindir himself seemed to have not taken offense to Glorfindel's joke as he followed.

"If they keep giving us this much food I will gladly make Glorfindel's performance appear insignificant," Lindir admitted as he set his own overflowing tray down, then had the most spectacular epiphany. "Flattery will get one just about anything from my experience. We are elves, the fairest of Ilúvatar's creations, why not take the advantage and see if we are able to eat like kings every night we are here?"

"Why can't you use your infinite wisdom and knowledge like that _advisor_?" Glorfindel questioned Erestor critically as he popped the cork out of the wine bottle, only to have it snatched away by Erestor before he could take a swig.

"Degrade and humiliate yourselves if you wish! I will have no part of it!" came his furious reply.

It did not matter if they had assistance from Erestor in this endeavor, Glorfindel and Lindir decided. It just meant more food for them. After all, there were truly no downsides to their plan.

* * *

Back in the kitchens, the sisters giggled and pranced about, completely enthralled by elves upstairs. Moreover, they were convinced that what the two nicer elves said about them was true. For how could such handsome elves say anything but the truth?

"He said we were more beautiful than elf-maids!" Maeve squealed.

"This is it, Maeve! I can't believe it! These elves will take us away from here and we shall be married! Think of how grand it will be to have such handsome husbands and live amongst _elves_!" Ethne's eyes sparkled as she joined her sister in a dizzying twirl.

"Did you see the one who first opened the door? I swear he smiled at me!" Fallon's mind conjured the visage of the dark, austere elf. "He was so stoic and handsome!" This younger sister either forgot, ignored, or didn't listen to Erestor's harsh words.

Or, quite possibly, they were all completely delusional.

"When he took the tray from me his hand touched mine!"

"Did you see the look on his face? I _know_ he wanted nothing more than to kiss me!"

"I'm sure he will ask me to marry him straightaway!"

The girls continued to giggle and squeal, already imagining their respective elves proposing marriage and taking them back to...wherever it was they came from.


End file.
